Get Your Motor Runnin'
by Insomniacs Fix That
Summary: Whatever you're feeling, it's okay to feel it, alright? Just say it. Who knew rebuilding a beat down motorcycle would result in this?


Disclaimer: We do not own Rizzoli & Isles or its characters. They belong to the author, Tess Gerritsen, and its producers at TNT. No money has been made from this.

Spoiler Alert: If you by chance have not seen the premiere episode of season 4, we wouldn't advise continuing any further.

Note: Italics are used for both thoughts and memories. It should be pretty easy to discern. If not, well, our bad.

* * *

_"Whatever you're feeling, it's okay to feel it, alright? Just say it."_

Maura huffed as Jane's words taunted her, lingering at the edge of her every conscious thought and leaving behind a feeling of uncertainty in a normally very certain mind. She did not like the vacillation between their constant flirtation and Jane's standoffish behavior. Moments like the one they'd had in the break room only confused her understanding of Jane's interactions further, and contributed to the frustration that seemed to build with every moment the pair spent in each other's company.

_Just say it._

It sounded so easy, thought Maura, as she paced listlessly around the motorcycle that was now sitting, broken, on the patio outside of her back door. It was yet another representation of the things that she would do to keep Jane close, her latest attempt coming in the form of help offered to Frankie with the hopeless pile of junk sitting in front of her.

In truth, she really wanted to see Jane sitting on it.

Just once.

Cursing, she sighed and reminded herself that Jane was inexplicably in love with the certainly undeserving Casey Jones. The man was just not good enough for her best friend, as he treated her like a convenience instead of a priority or an equal, and it simply baffled Maura to see the usually assertive and badass detective literally allowing him to walk all over her.

The honey blonde had known for quite a long time that she felt more than just simple friendship for the amazing woman that she was fortunate to call her best friend. Once they had survived the hostage situation at the precinct and Jane had recovered from the gunshot wound that had nearly killed her, Maura had finally admitted to herself that what she felt was an undeniable attraction to the detective. In fact, she'd accepted that she was in love with her.

Maura had been certain, though Jane had been fragile at the time, that the attraction had been mutual. Dozens of moments had passed between the two women that were definitely deeper than friendship, and Jane's ridiculous childish responses to every one of Maura's suitors merely reinforced her belief that the detective felt far more than simple friendship for her as well.

From that point on, Maura had stopped the senseless parade of men that had walked in and out of her life, hoping that Jane would realize that the dating pool had dried up because she was done looking for her soul mate, as her soul mate had been beside her all along; instead, Jane had suddenly discovered her own dating mojo.

Actually, the near fatal gunshot wound that had changed everything for Maura had ironically brought Jane's high school crush back into her life, as he'd seen the news and decided to show up for the ceremony in her honor. At first Maura had been charmed by him, had actually been relieved to see Jane whole and dating and living life again as she healed.

Then Casey consistently made selfish choices, choices that Maura could never have made because they not only hurt Jane, they removed her from his life; the final straw had been when he'd asked the honey blonde to lie to Jane, to keep his secret that his own physical inadequacy was the true reason that he had broken the detective's heart.

Naturally, Maura had refused, thus making an enemy of the Lieutenant Colonel who had wormed his way back into her best friend's bed.

Ugh.

And so here they were, Maura pining for the hopelessly clueless Jane, and Jane pining for the hopelessly inept Casey.

But if Jane wanted her to be honest, to truly say what she was feeling?

Well, maybe there was a way to say it, you know, without actually saying it.

With a final look at the motorcycle, Maura headed inside.

R&I

"Maura-a-a-a-a," Jane whined, as she arrived with a fresh six pack and a plan to just sit and drink and maybe watch some tv, "why are you dressed like that? And why are you trying to get me outside?"

"Jane," Maura chastised, "you know that I promised to help your brother get this bike running tonight." She paused for a beat, opened the back door, suggested, "Stay inside if you want."

Maura then walked out the door, suppressing a triumphant smirk as she felt rather than heard the other woman follow her into the makeshift workshop that had been, just that morning actually, a meticulously maintained patio.

"Where's the bench?" Jane huffed as she stared at the motorcycle currently occupying its spot.

"I had it moved," Maura flippantly explained, as though it were the easiest thing in the world to just slide a solid marble bench out of the way, "I have it in storage until we get this baby running."

Rolling her eyes, Jane grabbed a beer and asked, "Where am I supposed to sit?"

"Just sit on the bike," Maura suggested, doing her best to sound cool and aloof and as if seeing that body on that bike wasn't her complete purpose in every decision she'd made since Frankie had pushed the bike into her view at that parade on that terrible morning.

Risking a glance at the now seated detective, Maura struggled to contain the naughty flood of responses rushing through her body at the sight. Failing miserably, she turned her whole and total focus onto the parts on the table in front of her, cool detachment her intent as Jane's voice rumbled in companionable conversation behind her.

"Sorry I'm so difficult tonight," Jane offered to her best friend's rigid back.

"Rough day," the honey blonde replied, still not trusting herself to turn around.

She failed to notice the detective's affirmative nod as she caught sight of Frankie moving into view, stopping at their makeshift repair table.

With a nod in greeting to her younger brother, Jane rasped, "God, her own sister. Frankie and Tommy and I may not always agree but to actually kill one of them?"

The detective shuddered at the thought, sipping her beer in silent contemplation.

"I just can't believe she took the shot while her nephew was with her," Jane whispered, as she thought of the killer running to her sister's dead body with the infant strapped to her back.

With a knowing glance at Maura, Frankie offered, "Sometimes I want to smack some sense into Janie or Tommy, but I could never hurt them."

Jane scowled, sipped, and bristled at the glance she'd seen him shoot at Maura.

Vowing that her brother would explain that little look when she had him alone, she relaxed into her seat on the bike, soothed by the flow of conversation between Maura and Frankie and the oddly comforting sounds of metal on metal as the pair manipulated the various tools on several parts strewn across the table.

Jane paused, noting the ease in which her brother and Maura were working together. It brought a sense of pride and comfort knowing that everyone accepted this woman unquestionably as a part of their family. It was apparent even from Maura herself, who had gone out of her way on a number of occasions to help one of the Rizzoli clan despite the difference in the blood coursing through their veins.

Maura certainly wasn't obligated in the least to deal with their family drama, but she did. The woman took it in stride and on nights when the detective wanted to hold baby TJ? She had to contend with doting Auntie Maura. Jane realized that the honey blonde was just as intertwined into this family, that she was just as integral to its functioning as Frankie, Tommy, Ma, or even herself.

_Whatever you're feeling, it's okay to feel it, alright? Just say it._

Jane's own advice now taunted her, as she watched her brother smile and flirt innocently with her gorgeous best friend, who was laughing for the first time in a really long time at Frankie's ridiculous antics.

Watching the pair, it hit her that she was jealous. She wanted to be the one making Maura laugh, wanted to be the one on the receiving end of that breathtaking smile. She wanted to scream and shout that Maura was hers, that the only reason any of them had the right to be in Maura's life was because she had taken her under her wing and brought the socially awkward doctor into their lives.

_So say it._

_Say it now._

"At least her children won't be orphans," she offered instead, sipping upon the rapidly warming bottle in her hand.

_Chicken_.

"Even more reason to marry a house husband," Maura noted casually, her focus upon the task at hand as she resisted the urge to turn and see her friend's reaction.

"I'm glad I don't have a sister," the raven haired detective said skeptically, intentionally goading the M.E. as she realized that the woman was deliberately baiting her yet refusing to look at her.

Turning with a shake of her head, her golden tresses bouncing with the motion, Maura defensively yet dismissively replied, "Cailin's not going to shoot me."

Caught looking directly at Jane, all relaxed and sexy and draped across the machine like she owned it, Maura paused.

_Oh my God, tell her she's beautiful_.

_Tell her now_.

"You know, that motorcycle would make a beautiful café racer," she managed instead.

_Chicken_.

Frankie gave a noncommittal shrug at the idea.

"C'mon, he's in the drug unit, not the espresso unit," Jane childishly scoffed, her inner two year old silently cheering, as she became the focus of Maura's attention.

"The Harley look is passé, 1960s British rockers are back," Maura defended before turning back around, her body language clearly stating that her inner two year old had no desire to play with the condescending detective.

"Actually, café racer could be a better cover for busting dealers selling in clubs and colleges," Jane agreed, her change in attitude an obvious attempt to appease the honey blonde.

"I'm in," Frankie readily agreed, turning to Maura, "Can you get it runnin'?"

_Can I get it runnin'_?

The verbal opening was ridiculously perfect as Jane was a sucker for her Google speak, and Maura saw an opportunity that she couldn't resist.

"Well," she started with a quick glance at Jane, "the intake vacuum pressure pulls the fuel through and mixes liquid with air before it sucks it into the combustion chamber." The sentence was surprisingly punctuated with breathy pauses and nervous hand gestures, and Jane was undeniably turned on as the sexy technical lecture spilled adorably from those perfect lips.

"Mmm, go on," the detective sultrily replied.

Noticing the physical signs of Jane's arousal, her pupils so dilated that the pools of brown were now black, Maura eyed Frankie briefly, noticing he looked wary at her words as well as at his sister's reaction.

_Whatever you're feeling, it's okay to feel it, alright? Just say it_.

Deciding to just go for it, she toyed nervously with the tool in her hand.

"Violent explosion rams the big piston down with great force," she continued, her confidence building as she walked toward the motorcycle and ran her hand along the handlebar, angling downward as she ached to touch the jean clad thigh resting inches from her fingertips.

"Long, connecting rod forces the crank pin into rotation," she explained, her voice dropping into husky laden silk. Eyes raking over the lean detective seated nonchalantly upon the bike, she saucily added, "Which is what you want."

Glancing back at a clearly uncomfortable Frankie whose focus was wavering between the two of them and the parts on the table, Maura turned back toward Jane, her heated gaze boring into the detective.

"God, I'd love to have my crank pin rotated right about now," Jane said, her voice dropping low at the idea as she nervously took another swig of beer.

Maura faltered before saying, "I knew you'd miss him." The honey blonde realized Casey was still an unknown factor in this fragile house of cards they'd tenuously built over the years. Shaking the thought away, she schooled her features and kept up with the charade she had started as she heard the small noise escape Jane's lips, which were wrapped around the bottle of her beer once again.

Transfixed, Jane stalled by drinking her beer as she tried to form a witty response instead of just speaking her initial reaction of "Him? Him who?".

Frankie had finally had enough. He hastily set his tools down on the table and turned.

"Okay, you guys are making me really uncomfortable," he said.

The sound of Angela's voice was like a splash of cold water on the heated conversation, which had ended in nervous laughter as the pair tried to play off their mutual attraction for the sake of the younger Rizzoli.

After an awkward exchange between the Rizzoli children, their mother and their boss who was apparently dating their mother, Jane's inner child erupted again, but this time it was directed elsewhere and Maura found it utterly adorable.

"What the hell?!" Jane whisper yelled, as her mother and her boss disappeared into the guesthouse.

"Shhh, they can hear you!" Maura chastised, though her enormous smile and the accompanying giggle made it hard to take her seriously.

"I hope they can hear me!" Jane replied, still laughing though mortified by the thought of her mother entertaining a man, "they shouldn't be doing whatever it is they're planning to do!"

Frankie groaned at the idea, but the laughter was infectious and he couldn't stop laughing as Jane switched into big sister boss mode and ordered, "Frankie, go in there!"

"Yeah," he said through a laugh, "I'm not goin' in there, you go in there!"

"No," Jane chuckled, still entirely mortified yet unable to stop laughing; how could she focus, after all, when the normally very reserved Doctor Isles was fully involved in a very unreserved fit of the full body giggles?

Seeing Maura happy and basking in the knowledge that she was responsible for the gleeful display, Jane couldn't help but take it one step further. Shaking her hips in a very unladylike fashion, the detective mockingly did her best Cavanaugh voice, "Hey I hope you don't mind, I'm gonna toss your mother around a bit, all right?"

Frankie groaned at his sister's impersonation as Maura shushed her through the laughter that still had her whole body shaking. Continuing her juvenile comedy routine, Jane loudly shouted at her mother's door, "Yeah you know what? I mind! We are minding!"

"Toss? Them? I can't, no!" Frankie blurted, as he dropped his tools and began to clean up.

Sympathetically, a still smiling Maura stepped in and began to help.

"Ugh, I'm so grossed out," Frankie explained, "they're right there. Behind. That. Door." He shuddered at the thought, which only caused Jane and Maura to laugh even harder.

All joking aside, Jane knew that what had happened before her mother's interruption needed to be addressed, and once the laughter calmed there was a small reprieve before the awkwardness bled in. Frankie was eyeing the pair anxiously, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Frankie," Jane said, a small smile still playing at the corners of her mouth, "you ready?" The tilt of her head toward the exit left no doubt that she was ready for him to go home.

"Ye-ah, I sure ain't stayin' here!" he groaned.

"C'mon, I'll walk you out," the raven haired detective offered, as she left a lingering touch across Maura's arm before moving out toward the driveway, Frankie close behind.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jane turned quickly on her unsuspecting little brother.

"What the hell was that about?" she questioned hotly, her previous irritation at his knowing glance with Maura resurfacing with a vengeance. Her hands found her hips easily, falling into lead detective persona out of habit as she leveled her gaze upon him. The laughter and light atmosphere from just moments before long gone as Jane impatiently waited for a response.

"It's gross!" he defended.

"Not. That." she replied.

"Oh," he said as her meaning dawned on him, "that."

"Well?" she huffed.

"C'mon, Janie…" he tried, hoping to defuse his sister's fiery temper.

"Don't 'Janie' me, Frankie," she growled, finger pointed firmly at his chest, "what is your problem?"

Her tone was cold, accusatory. She was nervous at what he would say. It was obvious that he noticed the more than casual banter between herself and Maura, of that she was sure. But what was the big deal? It was just harmless fun, right? The detective knew she was in for it by the look on her brother's face.

"So, Jane," Frankie started, his tone just as cold as his sister's, "how's Casey these days?"

"What does he have to do with anything?" Jane backpedaled, thrown for a loop by the mention of her current, or lack thereof, boyfriend.

"Exactly."

Jane watched Frankie shake his head. The detective knew what her brother was referring to, but she just couldn't acknowledge it. Leaving things unsaid was safer. Hiding behind Casey was safer. The words she'd spoken to Maura earlier reverberated through her mind. How could she tell the woman that it was okay to embrace what she was feeling, to say it out loud, when she couldn't even admit it herself?

"Wait, where's your car?" Jane asked, as they stood in Maura's driveway and she ignored the obvious while doing what she did best - changing the subject.

"I drove Ma's car here," he answered, recoiling as he anticipated his sister's reaction to the knowledge that he had known about their mother's plans with Cavanaugh.

Instead Jane seemed to totally miss the obvious, stating, "So I have to take you home?"

Frankie stifled the laugh that wanted to erupt at his sister's complete and total distraction. If anyone had told him that anything could have Jane so completely preoccupied that she'd actually be ignoring her mother's social life, he'd have never believed it.

But here it was, happening. And instead of trying to interrupt or interfere or try to find out what the hell was going on in that guesthouse, she was standing beside her car looking like a kicked puppy because she had to leave Maura's side for the twenty minutes that it would take to drive her little brother home.

"She won't wait forever, Jane."

Wordlessly, she handed him her car keys.

Watching him drive away, she was overwhelmed by the fact that she was now entirely alone with Maura. Her mother wasn't going to pop in unexpectedly, her brothers weren't going to drop by, and Senior Criminalist Chang certainly wasn't about to enter with lab results.

Jane inhaled a shaky breath and turned, not quite knowing what was in store for them that evening.

R&I

Like a coward, Jane spent what felt like an eternity standing in the driveway where her car had previously been, drinking her beer and twisting her hair and trying very hard to understand why she was so terrified to just walk into her best friend's house.

_This is your second home, Jane, your safe haven from everyone and everything that can hurt you._

Pep talk over, the uncharacteristically skittish detective took a few steps toward the patio, where she was certain that Maura would still be cleaning up. Slowly, silent as a predator, she inched her away around the side wall and was surprised to find the honey blonde head not still bouncing around the not very tidy work area.

Curious, as Maura would normally lose all focus knowing such a mess was on her premises, Jane let herself in the back door.

As soon as she caught sight of the photo shoot ready flawlessness that was Maura, clad in a simple silk nightgown that had absolutely no right to look that sexy, she knew exactly why she had been so nervous.

"Maura."

Somewhat shocked but not really surprised to find that Jane had returned, Maura found herself reacting in all kinds of non-best friendy ways to the husky mix of desperation and anguish evident in that oh so familiar voice that didn't really sound familiar at all. With an attempt at the normalcy that seemed determined to fly out the window, Maura boldly yet transparently responded in a totally best friend way by remarking, "Did you use the lights and sirens?"

Jane's only reply was an intense stare, a predatory look that clearly dismissed the fact that the honey blonde had spoken at all.

"What I meant," a nervous Maura rambled, "was that you got Frankie home and returned sooner than I'd anticipated, so I was deducing that you had used the lights and sirens to expedite your return, though I do hope that's not the case as you've had a few drinks and I would really rather you hadn't gone that route. Studies have shown that consuming at least one alcoholic beverage before getting into a vehicle -"

"I don't care what you meant," the raven haired detective growled, "and I don't care what the studies say."

With a tired smile Maura took a step closer, invading the detective's space, whispering, "What do you care about, Jane?"

Taking a deep, frustrated breath the detective replied, "I care about Casey, Maura."

Stung, Maura retreated. Lowering her eyes and turning inward the way she had done her entire life, she took a deep breath and firmly slammed the mask of isolation into place.

And was startled by the venom that spewed in its wake.

"NO!" Jane boomed as she pointed at the expression that always graced the medical examiner's perfect features when she was shutting down into what Jane affectionately called "robot mode," "You don't get to do that! Not to me! Dammit Maura, I had it all figured out! I was going to, you know, settle down and have a family and make my mother happy with a pack of little Jonezolli's running around! But you -"

Jane's rant was disrupted by an unexpected bark of laughter from her best friend.

"Maura!"

"I'm," giggle, "sorry," deep breath, "Jane," giggle, "but Jonezolli's? Really?"

God she was beautiful when she smiled, Jane found herself stunned to realize for what felt like the tenth time that night. Arms crossed, amused smirk reluctantly on her own face, the detective watched the doctor dissolve into a fit of laughter that almost literally had her rolling on the floor.

"I'm sorry," Maura said as she straightened up and wiped the tears from her eyes, "You were saying?"

"I was saying?"

_Think Jane, think!_

"I was saying," Jane continued, her tone as deflated as a popped balloon as she stared at that gorgeous smile and wondered what it would feel like -

"Jane?" Maura said, her voice softly interrupting that train of thought.

"Huh?"

"You were saying?"

_Quit thinking about how adorable she looks, you were saying?_

"I was saying," Jane snarled, " that I had decided that Casey was the one, you know? And I've known him like, my whole life, ok? And after all of the stops and starts and the terrible mistake with Dean -"

"Gabriel," Maura softly corrected, stunned at the gut punch feeling she still experienced every time Jane said his name.

Glossing over Maura's interruption the way she always did when the corrections were irrelevant in her mind, the detective continued, "And even after that mistake Casey came back! And he didn't care, you know, that I had been with someone else or any of that, all he cared about was me. He wanted ME, Maura, after everything that he'd been through and all of the hurt of all of that time not together he still wanted me."

Taking a deep breath, seeing the hurt on her friend's face that had been there all along if she'd bothered to notice, Jane muttered dejectedly.

"It's not fair."

"What's not fair?" Maura asked, unsure that she really wanted to hear any more of where this conversation was obviously going, knowing for certain that Jane was going to go into full on "He went back to Afghanistan" whine mode.

"I'm Catholic." Jane flatly stated.

"Catholic guilt, Jane," Maura sympathized, "can be crippling, but I have faith that Lieutenant Colonel Jones will make an honest woman of you."

"What if I don't want him to?"

With those seven little words, everything changed.

"Because you see, Maura, I'm Catholic, but I'm already glad that Casey is gone. I'm beyond grateful, actually, because as he stood in my kitchen going on and on about how somebody needs to take care of me all I could think, Maura, was that if he didn't put that jar of marmite down I was going to show him a move that involved "Little Casey" and my foot. And I'm pissed, like, really-really pissed, that he's only been gone for a day and I gave Frankie my keys."

Confused, Maura opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off by Jane's hand in the air.

"I gave Frankie my keys," she continued, "because I didn't want to leave. I didn't use the lights and sirens Maur, I gave Frankie my keys."

As the detective sunk onto the couch and buried her face in her hands, Maura slowly approached, softly asking, "Jane?"

"I had it all figured out," Jane mumbled.

Wordlessly, Maura sat down and pulled a hand away from the detective's face.

Seeing the anguish there, Maura soothingly rubbed a thumb across the scarred surface of Jane's palm. Simultaneously, they seemed to realize that the gesture was both too familiar and too intimate, yet Jane didn't pull away and Maura didn't stop.

Everything about this simple gesture was charged and laden with unresolved sexual tension. Neither woman could deny they each felt something akin to electrifying at the contact. Despite the heavy atmosphere, Maura knew the first hurdle was getting Jane to open up, to be honest about what she was feeling and what was going on inside her head. That task in and of itself was daunting. Maura knew needling information out of the detective would take patience, and she wasn't quite sure how much of that she had left tonight.

"What did you have figured out, Jane?" Maura asked softly, feeling the detective tense beneath her hand.

"This," she shrugged, pulling her hand out from the honey blonde's grasp, feeling a heavy loss at the lack of contact. "Life, you know?" Jane knew if she looked at the other woman her resolve would start to break. Maura would always get under her skin, no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

"No one has life figured out, Jane. There are too many variables to acc-"

"That's not what I mean, Maur," the detective interrupted, knowing if she didn't stop the doctor now, more adorable witticisms and logical explanations would leave that tempting mouth and Jane didn't need more temptation than what was already sitting next to her.

"Casey," Jane mumbled through her hands covering her mouth, chancing a glance at Maura to gauge her reaction. She noticed her eyes dim a little and the skin around them crinkle in contemplation. Other than Maura working through that one word, Jane couldn't read her reaction as silence continued to stretch between them.

"We were making it work, it was working," she stressed, needing to believe the words coming out of her mouth. Trying not to think that the moment a decision was made, Casey dropped the bomb on her that he was leaving for Afghanistan and wouldn't be around. Not to mention that their whole relationship revolved around a tumble in the sheets and then the pair avoiding what was actually happening between them.

"Kind of like how I was making it work with Ian?"

Maura simply stating that name knocked the wind right out of Jane, whose physical reaction surprised them both.

Unable to form a response, though the tears in her eyes spoke volumes, Jane sat silently as Maura explained.

"Yes, I loved that man," she said softly, "actually, I still do. But," she quickly continued, unwilling to let Jane ruin this moment, "I can't be with him. I love him," she said with a shaky breath, "more than I've ever loved any man. But Jane?"

"Hmm?" was all the sullen detective could muster.

"I don't love him nearly as much as I love you."

Jane was rendered completely speechless. All of the air rushed out of her lungs at Maura's words and she found herself floored by the candid confession. The detective had always known on some level that there was something deeper than friendship between them, but she had never imagined that she, Jane Rizzoli, would ever be on the receiving end of such love from this woman seated beside her. Of course in the back of her mind, she had hoped that the other woman would look at her that way, but she never thought it was possible.

Jane let out a shuddering breath. The silence was becoming stifling.

"Jane, please, say something," Maura all but begged, the desperation evident in her voice.

"What do you want me to say?" she asked tentatively, her voice betraying her nerves.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Maura prodded.

She hoped that opening up to the detective would help the woman in turn be more open with her, to be honest about what was going on between them. She could sense the silent woman was rattled at what she had just divulged, it was obvious in her tense form and shaky voice. Relying heavily on her meditation techniques, Maura closed her eyes and took a deep and calming breath, exhaling silently before letting her gaze fall back upon Jane.

"I'm thinking," Jane husked, as she ran a frustrated hand through her wild shock of hair, "that I don't know what you mean by that, even though I know exactly what you mean by that, you know?"

Maura sighed, frustrated, refusing to acknowledge that Jane's words made perfect sense. Instead, she offered, "All I know Jane, is that I can't be with Ian because I can't leave you. Yes, I could just quit my job and travel the world with him, but I realized that being out there with him meant being without you. All I'm asking Jane, is for you to look at your situation and ask yourself, could you leave me for Casey?"

Inner child now fully in control, Jane snapped, "I can't just pick up and follow him to Afghanistan, he's a soldier! Where would I live? In his foot locker?"

With a look of total annoyance, Maura abruptly stood and disappeared into her bedroom. The doctor knew Jane was avoiding the issue, and was clearly deeper in denial than she had anticipated when she'd taken the gamble to put the truth out there.

It was during times like these that Maura had to rein in the anger she felt toward Jane. Why was it every time she took a step forward Jane had to take two steps back? Each serious conversation almost always ended with Jane skirting around the issue, either by deflecting with humor or falling back on her flavor of the month as a way to avoid what was obviously happening between them.

_Just like you used to do? _

"Oh, shut up," she said aloud to the thought that had been nagging at her throughout the course of the evening.

She went through her nightly routine on autopilot, her mind too preoccupied to put much thought into what motions her body performed. Before she even realized it, she was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her breathing coming in even intervals as she worked her body into a relaxed state of being. Her relaxation was shattered as her mind wandered to thoughts of Jane, and she wondered how long it was going to take the stubborn detective to realize that she wasn't going to return to finish the argument.

R&I

Stunned into inaction, Jane silently watched as Maura disappeared into the back of the house. The detective knew the honey blonde was beyond frustrated with her inability to speak openly about her thoughts and feelings. It was the Rizzoli way, after all, to skirt around the issue until the situation deteriorated and it could no longer be ignored.

_I'm not that bad._

Jane scoffed. Arguments or conversations usually always ended up with Jane edging around topics and Maura huffing over the detective's lackluster involvement. There was no denying it, she really was that bad.

Blindly reaching out, her hands clutched the soft fabric of a throw pillow before it muffled the detective's scream. Feeling less frustrated, Jane tossed it aside and shuffled into the kitchen in search of the six pack she had stowed away in the refrigerator. It only took a few seconds to pop the top off and take a long pull from the bottle. Briefly satisfied, Jane moved around the kitchen with ease until she found what she was looking for.

With a beer bottle and wine glass in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other, the detective quickly moved back out into the living room and placed each item down on the coffee table. When Maura returned, she would see that the detective had been thoughtful and they could continue their evening as Jane had envisioned it, snuggled beneath a blanket watching something pointless on television avoiding the obvious elephant in the room. Content with that idea, Jane made herself comfortable on the couch, flipping through stations hoping something would catch her attention.

Realizing she had just sat through at least ten minutes of some ridiculous as seen on tv advertisement alone, she noted Maura had not resurfaced from the back of the house. It was eerily silent which made the detective wonder if Maura had just gone to bed without saying goodnight. Had she really frustrated the good doctor that much?

"Maura, your wine's getting warm and it's your turn to pick what we watch."

Silence.

"Hey Maur, your wine glass is making a ring on the coffee table and it's too late for me to remember to use a coaster," Jane tried again, perplexed by the lack of response.

Was Maura actually not coming back?

Nah, Maura would never go to bed angry, right?

With an exaggerated sigh, Jane nervously got up, poured the wine back into the bottle, and accepted the fact that Maura had indeed gone to bed without saying goodnight.

"Fine, whatever, go to bed all pissed off," Jane said aloud, refusing to acknowledge that even Bass really didn't seem to care, "I don't know what you're so mad about. Did I tell you to choose me? No, I offered to take you to the airport to follow stupid Ian!"

Then Maura had turned down the offer and there had been that amazing hug and Jane had held on just a bit too tightly as those perfect breasts caused unspeakable thoughts to erupt in her mind.

"Whatever, I'm fine on the couch, thanks for asking!" Jane whispered, grabbing a blanket and flopping down. She then tossed and turned, finding that the furniture really wasn't that comfortable without Maura on the other end. Annoyed, she sat up and decided that she really needed a shower. Right this minute. And if that meant walking past a potentially pissed off Maura, then so be it.

"I'm a guest, dammit." she growled, marching down the hallway and preparing herself to give a stern lecture to the honey blonde as to how to treat a guest in her home, "and my clean underwear is in her dresser." Dismissing the irony of that string of thoughts, Jane became even more annoyed as she reached the bedroom and saw that the door was slightly open.

Had she heard everything?

Poking her head into the gap, the detective was stunned silent by the serene beauty of Maura in meditation. Nerves and anger and argument completely forgotten, she stared like a deviant at the vision before her.

"What are you doing?" she whispered, after spending a moment too long just staring and trying to form a coherent sentence.

"You know what I'm doing," the honey blonde responded without opening her eyes. She knew Jane would follow her. She knew that Jane was familiar with her routine and was fishing for a safe conversation starter, but she'd come too far now to indulge the stubborn detective.

The silence stretched between them, with Maura refusing to speak one more word that wasn't a continuation of their previous conversation, while Jane was too afraid of that conversation to discuss it any further. The doctor remained in her meditative state, hyper aware of Jane lingering in the doorway while the detective stood painstakingly still, her bottom lip caught between her teeth in contemplation. For several minutes they were at an impasse.

Eventually Jane realized that Maura wasn't going to let it go, so she sighed and huffed and slammed the drawer after she pulled out some clean clothes to sleep in. At Maura's soft "hm!" as the drawer slammed shut, the petulant detective looked around and it hit her that she was in Maura's bedroom, taking her own clothes out of Maura's dresser and preparing to sleep in Maura's bed.

"We spend every day together, Jane," Maura softly stated, "and I've definitely spent more time in bed with you than with anyone else."

"That's because we're best friends, Maur, which you'd understand if you'd ever had a friend! This is friendship, not-"

"Jane."

Tirade interrupted by her name so softly spoken, Jane blinked in silence and simply looked at the breathtaking sight gently patting the bed beside her and whispering, "Come to bed."

Jane froze as the realization washed over her that Maura was inextricably woven into every facet of her life more than anyone else ever had been, because she never allowed them to get that close. She'd actually never wanted to allow anybody to be that close, until Maura. Maura was the exception to every rule the detective had ever had. Every single one.

As if in a trance, Jane walked slowly toward the bed.

Stopped, when Maura ordered, "For God's sake Jane, take your boots off."

Looking down, the abashed detective realized that she was still fully dressed, boots and all, fresh change of clothes still in her hand.

Ducking into the bathroom she quickly showered, smiling as she used Maura's "D'Anjou Pear" body wash since her own bottle of "Luxurious Lavender" was empty; she smiled, because she knew that if she checked she'd see it on Maura's grocery list. Still grinning at the ridiculous domesticity of it all she dressed and brushed her teeth, then nervously walked the familiar twenty steps to her side of Maura's bed.

During the impromptu bathroom delay, Maura had made herself quite comfortable beneath the duvet. She was propped up against the headboard, her gaze trailing Jane's every move as she slowly slid beneath the covers, silence enveloping the pair before the detective took a breath.

"I'm glad you didn't follow Ian," Jane began as a peace offering, "but that doesn't mean we're a couple."

"Jane," Maura chided, "you're in my bed."

"Platonically," Jane replied.

"For now," Maura smiled.

"You wish!" Jane huffed.

"And you don't?"

Maura hadn't denied it, but instantly regretted the direct question that had backed the frustrating detective into the proverbial corner.

As Jane floundered, Maura softly added, "You've been jealous of everyone I've ever dated."

"Because you date jerks!" Jane rallied.

"Must be why I'm attracted to you, you're my type!" Maura snapped.

"Who you callin' a jerk?"

"You called yourself a jerk when you said I dated jerks!"

"We're not dating!"

"Oh that's right, you're dating Casey. So outside of your bedroom the two times he decided to grace you with his presence, how many dates have you been on?"

Seething, Jane growled, "That was low."

"Well it's the truth, isn't it?" Maura countered, not backing down in the least to Jane's gruff response.

"Things with Casey are complicated, you know that Maura."

"How can things be that complicated when the only time you two ever communicate is when he's in your bed? Clearly he has other priorities," Maura scoffed.

"Maura," Jane warned.

"And things with Gabriel were complicated and I sure as hell can't date anyone you don't approve of but guess what? You don't approve of anybody! Not even the world renowned surgeon who saved your life!"

"Ugh, Sluckey," Jane groaned.

"Awful man," Maura agreed, "he saved your life, took me places, you know, like on dates? He treated me with respect, saved your life and, oh, did I mention saved your life? So tell me Jane, what was his biggest fault?"

"Taking advantage of you!" Jane shouted, jumping out of the bed.

Pacing furiously, rubbing the scars on her palms until they ached, Jane explained to a shocked silent Maura, "He took advantage of you, Maur. You were vulnerable when you met him, I'm guessing in the ER where you used your position to refuse to leave my side, and-"

"How do you know that?" Maura softly interrupted.

"Because you love me, Maura, and that's what you do for the people you love."

The silence was different this time, it wasn't heavy but comfortable, and this time Jane wasn't afraid to go on.

"Because you love me," Jane repeated, "and you had just survived a horrendous ordeal. We nearly lost Frankie," she choked, "and I put you in a situation that I had no right to put you in. But you stepped up, you saved his life, and then you witnessed me shooting myself."

"Jane," Maura breathed, tears in her eyes at the memory, "that was the worst day of my life. But-"

Palm in the air, Jane cut her off, insisting, "But he took advantage of you Maura! You were in shock, definitely suffering from post traumatic stress disorder, and he used his status as "the man who saved Detective Rizzoli's life" to get into your bed!"

Jane stood at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips and chest heaving. Maura's eyes never left hers as Jane's ears finally registered the words that had passed through the doctor's lips.

"You've never needed any leverage to get into my bed."

Jane's hands fell to her sides, eyes searching for a sign. It didn't take but a moment for Maura to give the indication.

"Come back to bed, Jane," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

It took a brief moment before the detective finally moved to her usual side of the bed and slid back under the covers. Bringing them up to her hips and flattening out the creases, she mirrored Maura's position sitting against the headboard.

"So, tell me," Maura began, her curiosity piqued at Jane's sudden dissection of the men in her life, "besides his international fugitive status, what was wrong with Ian?" She waited on baited breath as she turned to watch the detective's focus shift away, uttering one sentence that she had to strain to hear.

"He wasn't me," Jane said softly, her gaze shifting to Maura with an intensity that spoke volumes. The raven haired woman felt something change between them and found her hands in her lap to be the most fascinating thing in the room as a thumb rubbed against the palm of the other hand.

Awkwardly, Jane cleared her throat before continuing. "So, I guess it's too bad neither of us like women," she said, quickly glancing at Maura before focusing back on her hands.

"Such a shame," Maura agreed, "because if we liked women, all of this jealous anger could be channeled into mind-blowing sex."

Jane gulped, her proximity to that possibly mind-blowing sexual partner making it hard to breathe. "Right," she squeaked, her own voice betraying her as she continued the charade, "because if we liked women, we could, you know, just toss each other around."

They both laughed at the inappropriate Cavanaugh impersonation, the moment taking them both back to that ridiculous scene on the patio.

"So really, it's just too bad that we aren't attracted to women," Jane said with a smile, totally turned on by the conversation yet completely aware that it shouldn't be having this affect on her.

"Right, because if we were," Maura breathed, "it would make so much more sense every time I caught you staring at my breasts."

"Exactly," Jane agreed, coughing awkwardly, "because if we were, you know, attracted to women, it would totally explain why I wake up with your hand under my shirt every time we sleep together."

"I didn't know you knew," Maura quietly admitted, the easy bantering tone gone from her voice, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," the detective softly replied, "I know why you do it."

"You do?" the honey blonde responded, skepticism in her voice.

"It's the scar," Jane smugly deduced, "ever since that bullet passed through my gut, you've been inexplicably drawn to it. I assumed it was morbid curiosity, but I've noticed how you play with it when you think I'm asleep, so I'm guessing you're either trying to decide what type of scar it is or trying to figure out when it will completely heal or some other Wikipedia factoid that I wouldn't understand even if you explained slowly with small words, or -"

Jane's explanation was abruptly cut short as Maura's hand moved to cover the scar in question, the touch so gentle and loving that the raven haired woman gasped in pleasure.

It was no longer a game. Maura knew that Jane wanted this just as badly as she did, but dammit, Jane was going to have to let it happen.

"This," Maura husked, her fingers dancing over raised skin, "is a symbol. It's a representation of who you are, Jane. It's everything I love about you, and a constant reminder of the day I knew I'd fallen in love with you."

Jane was astounded, words failing her, as she simply placed her own hand over Maura's on her stomach, gently holding it in place against the slowly fading imperfection.

A comfortable silence fell between them as they lay, content as lovers, reflecting on the not so surprising secret that had just been spilled. Neither woman could imagine why it had taken them so long to get to this point, to this level of openness and honesty.

It was terrifyingly freeing in the best possible way.

"It was at the elevators, the same day," Jane admitted, her whisper shockingly loud as it broke the silence.

"Hmm?" Maura sleepily replied, so content to finally be openly touching Jane that she'd almost fallen asleep during their lull in conversation.

"I was getting on one elevator to go upstairs, you were getting on the one across the hall to go downstairs," Jane explained, "and we were talking about Tommy. You offered to talk about it, or avoid the subject, and you told me that you were there for me. That's when I knew that I loved you."

Now very much awake, Maura knew that it was now or never; dropping her voice to a sexy whisper, she asked, "Are you sure the only reason we're not having sex is that neither of us is attracted to women?"

Jane tensed as Maura stared at her, alarmingly close as she awaited the detective's response.

"Pretty sure," Jane replied, every fiber of her being humming with the intoxication that came with lying this close to Maura. She hoped that the doctor didn't notice her eyes, which refused to look anywhere but at the nipples straining against the thin layer of silk that was maddeningly close to not really concealing anything at all.

Oh, Maura noticed.

"In that case," Maura stated matter-of-factly as she slowly ran her finger around the circumference of the scar, "I guess what I'm about to say won't bother you at all."

Resisting the urge to cram the pillow over her face and scream in frustration, the very sexually frustrated detective struggled to control the reactions that Maura's gentle touch had just created, her husky whisper goading, "say it Maur, what won't bother me?"

R&I

"Are you wearing pears?" Maura abruptly asked, which was totally not what she'd intended to say but the realization hit her and it just slipped out.

"Really, Maura, really?" Jane huffed, the sexual frustration becoming physically painful as she waited for the honey blonde's response.

"No, really," Maura continued, "I wasn't going to say that, it just hit me. So, are you?"

"You're out of my soap," Jane explained, "so I used yours, okay?"

Maura silently contemplated her next move as the detective nervously watched that giant brain work. When Maura thought too long, it usually ended badly for Jane.

True to form, when Maura finally opened her mouth it was to pummel the hapless woman with a dizzying series of rapid-fire questions.

"Why did you shower?"

"I didn't want to sleep in your bed dirty."

"Were you any dirtier than you've been when you slept here before?"

"I suppose not."

"Then why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you shower?"

"Because I thought you did."

"Why would that matter?"

"Why would what matter?"

"Whether I showered or not."

"I was trying to be polite."

"Did you shower for Casey?

"No!"

"Why not?"

"Because I knew he wouldn't go down on me!"

_Aha._

Mortified by her uncensored response, Jane refused to look at her friend, face flushed in embarrassment at her admission.

Noticing Jane's apparent unease at her unfiltered retort, Maura looked at the detective with understanding eyes before turning out the light and offering a quiet, "Good night, Jane." The doctor figured it would be best not to push the boundaries further, as she wasn't quite sure of what would happen if Jane wasn't the one to make the first move.

"Okay, night," Jane whispered, grateful that she'd been given a moment to collect herself, knowing that Maura was giving her time to recover. But the moment she felt the doctor's hand slide from her waist the loss of contact was palpable, and she wished that she hadn't needed that time to prepare herself to deal with this conversation.

Unable to sleep, Jane turned and watched her friend, smiling at the shallow breathing that signaled that the other woman wasn't really sleeping either. Softly, she asked, "What were you going to say?"

The question was unexpected, as Maura had decided to just give in and let Jane slide for at least one more day, but this was an opportunity she certainly could not resist.

"Are you sure you want me to answer that?" her tone making it clear that Jane probably didn't want to hear the truth.

"Yeah," she husked, "tell me."

"Well," Maura drawled, her voice dropping a register as she took the plunge, "I was going to ask if you thought I really could get that motor running."

Jane's silence spoke volumes, as did the hand which slowly found Maura's and brought it back to rest against the flat stomach that had been craving its return.

Smiling at the renewed intimacy, Maura continued, "I don't think it's a lost cause quite yet, do you?"

"Nothing that you set your mind to is a lost cause, Maur," Jane whispered, "as long as you don't give up on it."

Wordlessly, they both acknowledged that they weren't really talking about that bike at all.

Maura's thumb bumped across the scar tissue, her hand boldly moving in wider circles across familiar abs until her fingertips were grazing not only the edge of the practical bra, but also the matching waistband of the panties that the detective really wished she hadn't worn at all.

There was no conversation as Maura continued to explore the smooth expanse of skin; none was needed, as they were both just enjoying the sensation, the easy togetherness that had always been between them as well as the scary new place that the togetherness was clearly going.

Everything that was anything that had ever made sense to Jane had been blown away by the sheer power of her body's reaction to this woman's gentle touch, and she was blasted by the fact that if Maura didn't take it further, right fucking now, she was quite possibly going to lose her mind.

"Say it," she begged, as her hips began to roll, her entire being straining for the relief that only Maura could give.

Maura knew what Jane was asking, knew exactly how to respond, but needed the reassurance that nothing was going to change in their friendship, so instead of saying what was needed to push the detective over the edge she emphatically stated, "Promise me that nothing will change."

Shocked, too turned on to think straight, Jane growled, "I promise Maur, we'll go back to normal tomorrow and nothing will change. But right now, I need you to say it!"

"Well," Maura breathed, "the intake vacuum pressure pulls the fuel through."

As she recited her earlier explanation, the honey blonde pulled Jane's bra up just far enough to expose the hardened nipples, licking her lips at the glorious sight.

"And mixes liquid with air, before it sucks it," she said with a pause, sucking a perfect peak into her mouth, eliciting a gasp from the detective whose hands were buried in golden locks and holding that pleasure giving mouth in place.

"Into the combustion chamber," Maura mumbled around the heavenly mouthful, already missing the taste as she slid her mouth down and over the scar she'd been aching to kiss for as long as it had been on that body.

Jane's breath caught in her throat as she realized what she was hearing, and feeling, and experiencing.

Oh my god this fucking woman, she thought, as her legs parted of their own volition and a warm hand began to travel downward.

"Violent explosion rams the big piston down with great force," Maura's silky voice continued, as a pair of fingers found their way past Jane's boxers and rammed into the wet heat of the detective's center.

Gasping, Jane rolled them over. Maura smiled, her hand never losing contact as they changed position, the raven haired beauty now shamelessly grinding herself into the delightful fingers furiously pumping in and out of her.

"Long, connecting rod forces the crank pin into rotation," Maura cooed, as she slid her thumb across Jane's swollen clit and drew rapid circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves, smiling smugly as her actions threw the other woman into complete oblivion.

After what seemed like hours outside of her own body, an experience so utterly magnificent that it felt as if every nerve ending were rewired to be nothing more than pleasure receptors, Jane collapsed on top of her beloved Maura, who softly finished.

"Which is what you want."

* * *

A/N 2: First off, if you've read this far, we would like to thank you! This piece is a joint venture between two writers who figured why the hell not! This oneshot was forged over many nights of cursing, frustration, writer's block, and the daily interference known as life. Any and all typos, oversights, or anything else that might be off are definitely on us. We beta each other and sometimes, things slip through. If you notice something, drop us a line and point it out if it's bothersome.

Obviously, this piece covers the season 4 opener "We Are Family" and there is potential this collaboration might spawn ficlets that cover the episodes from this season. It's still up in the air as there are ideas for some other projects already floating around between us that might take precedence before tackling another episode from this season. But, as I think we both thought when this was finished, better late than never! We hope that in taking the time to check this out that you've enjoyed!


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